


Endings

by HooperMolly



Category: MasterChef (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Sophia is an enabler, all aboard the bendy bus, so is Kim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooperMolly/pseuds/HooperMolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't believe I've written two RPF fics for bloody masterchef australia.<br/>Apologies to Andy and Ben, you precious freaking unicorns.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Endings

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I've written two RPF fics for bloody masterchef australia.  
> Apologies to Andy and Ben, you precious freaking unicorns.

Unlike the quick cut editing technique favoured by the show’s powers, the actual time for farewells lasts a few hours after the cameras stop rolling. 

The bus back to the house was a slow, silent ride. The air itself felt heavy. 

None of the girls tried to speak to the boys, not when they looked so shattered. They weren’t looking at each other. 

Ben was looking out the window into the darkness, watching the shadows flashing past. 

Andy was staring down at his feet where his apron lay, still crumpled in the heap it had landed in when he’d taken it off. Ben’s apron still hung proudly over his chest, splatters of wine marking the white as evidence that he thrown everything he had at the competition. 

They stopped at a red light, and if you looked closely you could see the odd sheen over Ben’s eyes as the glow of the street light reflected off them. Less obvious was the slight redness around Andy’s eyes from where he’d rubbed at them to stop his own tears from coming. 

Their hands were so close together, almost as close as you can be without touching, and for a moment Andy thought about grabbing Ben’s hand just to let him know that this wasn’t the end. Not for them anyway. 

But then Ben’s fingers were twisting their way through his, almost as though he was the one trying to be reassuring. 

Andy glanced up at him. He was still looking out the window, but after a few moments he turned his head. 

The smile he gave Andy was tired, and tight, but it was as sincere as any he’d ever given before. Andy tried to return the smile but his face didn’t let him. 

The muscles in his cheeks felt too heavy and his tongue felt several sizes too large for his mouth. So instead he squeezed Ben’s hand and let himself lean in just a little bit closer. 

Ben smelled like the beef stew that Andy’s dad had used to make every weekend and he felt himself blushing as realised how much it reminded him of home when Andy’s whole concept of home had been turned upside down over the course of the competition. 

All at once everything felt too much and all the trapped emotion and thoughts needed to escape his head. 

He started laughing, softly at first, almost silent, his shoulders quaking as he attempted to keep it all in. 

But it soon devolved into honest, uncontrollable cackling, tears beginning to form in his eyes as the muscles in his stomach began to protest. 

The girls had all turned to stare, Julia giving them both a worried look as Ben began to laugh too. 

Then it was the two of them, sitting together at the back of the bus feeling utterly exhausted, in a fit of laughter while holding hands. 

The strangest thing was that it didn’t feel strange at all.

It was normally tense when they got back to the house, but like the night before there was something different. 

There was no waiting to see who was staying and who was going home. They already knew that. 

No one had been expecting Kylie to go home, she’d been so strong through the entire show. 

For weeks now Andy and Ben had faced the possibility that one of them could go home, watched as other groups of two and three had slowly been dismantled and pulled to pieces. 

Andy had almost allowed himself to believe that maybe they wouldn’t have to. Maybe, just maybe, they could reach the final together. 

But that was just a dream of the past now. Ben had to go and Andy was going to be alone. 

“Do you want to make dinner?” 

Audra asked gently, giving them the chance to cook together one last time as part of Masterchef. 

Andy could see movement out of the corner of his eyes and looked up to meet Ben’s gaze. 

He looked so worn out, but Andy knew that if he wanted to then Ben would be there in that kitchen with him if it killed him. 

“Um, no. No. Thanks Audra, but…um…” 

He lost the words and felt himself waving his arms about in some silly, meaningless gesture. 

“It’s okay Andy, I’ll think of something nice. There’s a vegetarian recipe of my mother’s that I’ve been meaning to test out…” 

Her mind set on food, Audra drifted over towards the kitchen, checking off ingredients on her fingers. Mindy and Julia seemed to have vaporised. 

“You all right?” 

Ben asked, his concern amplified by the general tiredness written on his face. 

“Am I all right?” 

Andy was taken aback. He wasn’t the one who’d just been kicked out of the competition. 

“Yeah. You look pretty beat up so I thought I’d ask.” 

Andy felt a small grin escape him as he shook his head. 

“You’re the most selfless git I’ve ever met.” 

Ben shrugged. 

“Used to be part of the job description.” 

Andy felt a sharp spike of panic drive through his stomach as he was reminded that Ben had quit his job for the show, until he remembered the he didn’t want to be a teacher any more than Andy wanted to remain an electrician. 

“Beer?” Ben asked. 

“Please.” 

Ben fetched a couple of bottles and they walked into the living room, dragged the coffee table over to their favourite sofa, and settled in shoulder to shoulder. 

For a few minutes they avoided talking about anything much, chatting inanely about the films they were hoping to see after the show wrapped up properly. 

But inevitably things turned towards the competition, and home.

“Was it worth it? Quitting your job, leaving all that behind for the last few months?”

Ben seemed surprised by the question. Andy was little surprised at himself. 

It was the sort of thing they’d be asking him in interviews, he knew, but he wanted to get the answer himself. 

“Yeah. It was.” 

Ben appeared to contemplate his answer for a few seconds, staring down at the half empty bottle of beer in his hand. 

“I’ve learned a lot.” 

He said slowly. 

“Not just skills and that sort of thing either. I’ve made some great friends like Emma. And then of course, there’s you. The one thing I didn’t come into this competition looking for, yet there you were. Younger, and handsomer, and a better cook than I could hope to be.” 

He paused, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. Andy took a large swig of beer to prevent it from being awkward, even thought it wasn’t at all. 

“I’m serious about the restaurant. I know we’ve talked about it a lot, in those wouldn’t it be nice type conversations, but I want to do it. There isn’t anyone I’d rather work with every day.” 

Andy started chewing on his lip before he realised what he was doing and stopped. 

“You sure? You’d have to see my stupid face every day. You might regret it.” 

He broke into a grin that Ben quickly returned. 

“Nah mate, I’ve woken up with your face only a few feet away for weeks now, I think I can handle it.” 

Andy’s smile faded a little. 

“The room’s going to feel so empty.” 

He said, the unhappiness clear in his voice. 

“It’s okay, you’ll only be here a few more days before you win the competition and then you’ll be out of here too.” 

Andy set down his beer. 

“Stop doing that, assuming I’m going to win.” 

“Why? You’re the best in my opinion, and the best usually wins. Then, when you’ve won you can go get some experience in working restaurants, write your book, then come join me running our own place.” 

Andy knew the grin that was settling over his face was big and silly. 

“You do realise that you’re going to cook my arse out of the kitchen with your Mexican. Anyway, don’t sell yourself short Mr Top 5.” 

For the first time in the evening it was Ben whose cheeks flushed pink. 

“It’s pretty hard to sell yourself short when you’re my height.” 

Andy didn’t know why they did that, trying to brush off compliments with jokes. 

“Thanks.” Ben’s brow furrowed in confusion. Thanks wasn't the usual follow on from what he'd said. 

“For what?” 

“For believing in me.” 

Andy replied, simply. 

The smile that passed over Ben’s face was warm and reassuring, just like the arm that he draped over Andy’s shoulder. 

“No need to thank me for that. It’s all you.”

For a brief moment Andy thought it was a shame that the cameras weren’t still rolling. It wasn't the end. Not for him and not for Ben.


End file.
